


Scratching open wounds

by sailorsvictory



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abusive Parents, Losers are kinda mentioned, Mentions of Cancer, Mommy Issues, Only Bev is quoted, nothing graphic but could be triggering, spoilers but the boyfriend mentioned is richie ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 10:49:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14055327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorsvictory/pseuds/sailorsvictory
Summary: Eddie thinks it's time to have the talk with his mother.





	Scratching open wounds

**Author's Note:**

> a little timeline:  
> \- When Eddie is 5 his father dies  
> \- When Eddie is 12 he finds out his medication its bullshirt  
> \- When Eddie is 20 he moves to NY  
> \- He is 26 here (i mention it at some point

Eddie wasn’t much of a drinker but all he could think about was that he really could use a drink right now; he could recall feeling rather confident when he kissed his boyfriend, hugged his best friends and got in a bus to go back to his childhood house. He recalled telling his therapist that talking to his mother was something that he needed to do on behalf of his younger self and God, sitting in his therapist’s chair, with a cup of tea in his hand and this idea on his mind was one thing; actually doing it, on the other hand, was practically begging to have an anxiety attack.

 _There’s not much to do right now_ , he thought, while staring at the bus window and thinking that if time travelling was a thing, he would go back to the day he told his best friends about what he was going to do and would have accepted their company when they suggested coming along. _Fuck saving presidents or discovering ancient knowledge._

His clock read 3:05pm when Eddie entered the man’s restroom in Derry’s bus station. In less than half an hour he was going to see his mother; it had been two years since they last saw each other, when Sonia decided to go to without a warning to New York to visit him, but Eddie hadn’t set a foot in his childhood house in nearly six years. He, unfortunately, could feel his chest tightening and his stomach burning and he already knew that it was his anxiety making an entrance; he reached for his phone and was able to dial his therapist number before his hands started to shake badly. It ringed for what could be two seconds or three days but his therapist answered.

\- Hi, Eddie. – Her voice was as soft as always but he could sense she was worried; well, she did know what day was today. – Is everything okay? – He just managed to breathe harshly near the phone and thought it would be a miracle if she understood what was going on. She did, actually. _Thank God Andrea exists_. – Eddie, try doing the breathing exercise we practiced. If possible, focus on a constant sound around you. – He grabbed the bathroom’s balcony so tightly his knuckles turned white, but tried to focus on his therapist voice. – I’m right here, take your time. When you feel able to talk, just say something. I’m here. - He finally felt his breathing normalizing after a few minutes of focusing on the water drops on the sink in front of him and trying to breathe.

\- Hi, Andrea. – He said after being sure that he wouldn’t throw up if he opened his mouth. – Sorry for calling you. I’m in Derry. – Even saying that felt wrong against his tongue. -  Remember me again why I wanted to do this? – He heard Andrea softly chuckling.

\- Eddie, I’m going to be honest with you. And I’m saying this as Andrea, not your therapist. – She sighed and he waited for the rash words that were probably about to leave her mouth and closed his eyes. – I don’t think I, if in your situation, would do what you’re doing. I think it’s going to hurt you, no matter the outcome; when you come back home today, it’s gonna be hard. But I do think that stopping yourself of doing something just because it could hurt means you’re not really living. Sometimes, we need to do it to give our pain a reason; maybe because answers are worth it. Or just to put an end to something. – She paused, her voice more rushed than normally. – Just… just remember that you know what to do, Eddie. You’re in control of your decisions. Do what you need to do.

\- God, Andrea – Eddie didn’t realize that his eyes were filling with tears until he spoke, the weight of truth sitting on his shoulders (weirdly, it didn’t bothered him); he don’t know how he didn’t cry, his voice just a whisper on the phone. – You’re out of this world. Thank you for being honest. – He made a mental note of actually buying her a new mug, after accidentally cracking hers in the last session. – Thank you. I’m going to hung up now, okay? Talk to you next week. – He said. She replied gently and he hung up.

Eddie looked up and stared at his reflection in the bathroom’s mirror; he looked tired, his face a little pale. He washed his hands, still staring and letting himself feel the cold water against his palms for a minute; he left the bathroom feeling calm and walked towards the cabs, grabbing the first one who noticed him. The drive from the bus station to his house was less than 10 minutes and when he recognized his neighborhood, he asked the driver to park two blocks away. He paid and stood on the sidewalk for a whole minute remembering his therapist words on the phone. He chuckled to himself, thinking that someone in control of their live probably didn’t have anxiety attacks right before seeing their own mother. He could almost hear his therapist replying some smart psychology thing back to him and rolled his eyes.

The first step towards his old house was hesitant but the others came easily. After a few, he finally saw the house and noticed, with his heart feeling tight, that nothing had changed. The only difference, maybe, was that the window curtains are closed; when he still lived there, he used to open them, so he could watch the neighborhood, the traffic and the kids playing. He looks at the grass, noticing that it needed to be trimmed and could almost hear his mother voice telling him to not step on it. He stepped on it, just a little bit, feeling mischievous and brave; then walked towards the door and knocked on it. He barely had time to take one last breath before his mother opened it. She looked tired. Older. Shorter.

\- Hello, Eddie. Mother missed you. – Her voice, though, it’s the same as ever. Same ‘I-know-more-than-you-son-its-from-your-own-good’ tone and he found himself surprised with how she could make him feel like he’s 10 again when she just said five words. He felt like puking. He dry swallowed. His mother doesn’t seem to have noticed anything because she proceeds to talk. – Come on in, honey, mother wants to hug you.

Eddie does as told and the hug, just like most of theirs now day’s interactions, was bittersweet. After leaving his childhood house, all he could feel was hate; he was mad and sad and, God, full of hate. Nothing was fair and everything about his mother was bad memories. After five years with his therapist, thought, those feelings no longer got a hold of him; not that he didn’t sometimes felt them, he did, trust him, but he started to... understand his mother. He did not forgave her actions, far from that, but he tried to see that, in her twisted mind, she didn’t mean any harm; and he actually never really confronted her. So, yeah. Bittersweet. (Maybe more bitter than sweet).

\- Hi, mother. How are you? – He managed to say, letting his mother lead him to sit on the one sit couch. Thank God, he thought, there’s no way he would be able to sit beside her and talk. He was trying to be rational and everything, but any physical contact with her that lasted for more than a minute was too much, too much memories that should be nice but weren’t, too much of being a kid and thinking that his mother touch was comforting but years later finding out that no, his mother’s arms weren’t a save place for him. He wondered, sometimes, if he would ever feel something heart-warming and not heart-tightening while touching her.

\- Oh, Eddie, I’m fine! Just a little pain on my back, you know. Had to go to the hospital the other day to check, your aunt came with me. But, oh, your mother is fine! – She said like it was nothing, all smiles and brushing her hair into place, but Eddie knew better; by the age of 13, Eddie could already tell what game his mother was playing. Back then, he would play the game too. There was a “Sorry for not being here, mother” spinning, jumping and running in his tongue; back then, he would play her game. _Back then_. Eddie said nothing. His mother probably noticed because so she continued to talk. – So, honey, missed your home? Mother would like for you to visit more, you know that. Oh, and go grab some tea for us, dear, it’s in the kitchen. I think you still know the way, Eddie.

Eddie got up without saying a word and made his way to the kitchen. _“I think you still know the way”_ was obviously translated to _“You don’t come around enough, you never visit, you’re a terrible son, this is your home, you left your old mother here all alone, you’re selfish, oh, so so selfish, honey”_ but Eddie was decided to not think about that and focused on serving the tea. It didn’t quite work because all his brain could do was think about how _No, Mother, I don’t think I could forget this house even if they removed ALL my memories because when I’m having nightmares I FEEL this house; I smell the cleaning products, I taste pills dissolving in my tongue, I hear the way you lock all the doors every time you leave so I can’t even go to the front yard and even if I didn’t know the reason why, I would still feel it in my nightmares._

Eddie closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping that his intrusive thoughts would leave when he saw the “Home, sweet home!” frame on the wall. It was in the same place that it used to be. It was clean as it used to be. The colors were just more faded, probably from the over cleaning mixed with the old age. Eddie had to hold a loud laugh because God, this house never felt like a home. After finding out his mother had lied to him, he understood why he always felt out of place on his own house. He used to thought that it was just a side effect of the medication, that feeling of not belonging, feeling strange. He understood why he was felt sad every time he had to live his friends houses (on the occasions that his mother had let him go) because the few hours with his friends on their houses had him already feeling what a home should feel. But he never really got the feeling of being home until he had his own space. He could almost hear Bev’s voice saying “ _It’s funny how people can adapt to anything, amazing what the human mind can get used to.”_

\- Eddie! Our tea, honey, where is it? – He heard his mother saying from the living room and noticed he had been too deep into his own mind and forgot the damn tea. He looked to the wall, where he knew that had an old clock (that once belonged to his father, he imagined, because it never matched the rest of the house), and saw 4:18pm. He sighed and served the tea.

He makes his way back to the living room with two cups of tea and placed them in the small table in front of them; he made the mistake of drinking it and tested green tea. It’s the same tea she used to drink when he was little and it made his stomach feel sick again. His mother was a creature of habit, he knew that; she wouldn’t change now.

\- We need to talk, mother. – Maybe it was the green tea, maybe it was the amount of confirmations that his mother remained the same person she was 20 years ago or the feeling of already being tired of just being there, even thought he probably entered the house less than half an hour ago but he gathered the courage to say something. – I told you on the phone.

\- Oh, Eddie, talk to your mother. What happened? Are you sick, honey? – She said, same tone as ever and Eddie wanted to cry. God, she wasn’t even at her worse but he already was on the edge.

\- No, mother. – He says harshly and he sees his mother’s eyebrows raising and her mouth opening to tell him something like _“Oh, Eddie, why are you so mean to your own mother?”_ but she never got the chance because Eddie continued – No, I’m the one doing the talk today. You see, it took me nearly five years to finally trying to understand you. Understanding what the things you did made me, understanding that it was never my fault. I felt dirty, mother, I still feel sometimes. Even in that summer when I realiz- No, I didn’t realize, someone told me, I panicked, put everything together and then realized, - Eddie feels hot all over, his vision already blurred but no tears streaming down his face, his mouth speaking everything that came to mind – I still felt sick. I still thought I needed those fake pills and the damn inhalator. I had to constantly fight myself because I was always torn between knowing I didn’t need anything but still thinking that I would fall apart at any second without it. God, I remember you coming to my room in the middle of the night and putting the pills in my mouth; I would always wake up with the awful taste of medicine in my tongue and I cried because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t leave the house, I couldn’t eat or drink anything because I knew you would put pills on it, I couldn’t sleep. I spent eight years being paranoid, being paranoid because of germs, pills and you, I-I just. – Eddie tried to hold a sob and failed; his mother was staring at him from her couch, mouth closed in a thin line. She looked like she might cry at any second. – I’m 26 and still affects me. The-there’s so much more I want to say but I can’t think straight. Do you at least understand that? Do you understand that what you did was wrong? – Eddie’s voice was just a whisper.

Eddie saw Sonia breathing heavily and saying nothing for a while; Eddie almost thought that it would be that, that she would tell him to leave, tell him that he was lying, that nothing of that was true. But then she started to speak.

\- Frank was having this cough for a few moments before he decided to go to the doctor. – Her voice breaks at the mention of Eddie’s father and he felt himself holding his breath. His mother never mentioned his father after he passed. Never. – Oh, the first few months it would just come and go, some medicine, some tea, it would make him better and we would forget about it. We’re so happy back then, honey; so, so happy. His chest would hurt but he thought it was his nerves. – He heard his mother chuckle a little - You were too young to know, Eddie, but, oh, you got that from him. Always so full of energy. So so alike. – Eddie couldn’t stand to look at her, just stared at the TV. There was a show on, the volume was up, but all he could hear was his mother’s words. - It took us 9 months. Whole 9 months of coughing, chest pain, headaches, suddenly lost of weight and Frank, oh, he was such a stubborn, only went to the doctor when his back pain was so strong he could barely walk. – He noticed her voice failing but she proceeded - The results came in two weeks. Lung cancer. Not much could be done by then. “If you had come sooner, we could have done more, Mr. Kaspbrak”, his doctor said. Your father passed two months after the results. It was a nightmare, Eddie, it is a nightmare.

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He didn’t expect his mother to talk about his father; growing up he would sometimes feel like he never had a father. He had few memories of him, but they were all glimpses of hospitals and his father in a bed. Before he could absolve anything, Sonia started talking again.

\- With you, Eddie… I did what a mother had to do. – She said and Eddie waited for something else. Anything. There’s a tangible silence, God knows how long, but it seemed that that was her final statement.

\- You’re not sorry, then? – Eddie felt like a little kid. He already knew the answer. – I just need to hear you saying you’re sorry, mother. – He begged, looking down at the impeccable carpet.

\- I’m only sorry that I didn’t do anything when your father started to be sick, Eddie. Mother can’t feel sorry for you. – Her voice was firm but her eyes were red. – Oh, honey… better you hating me but healthy and alive. – He saw her blinking a few times, holding back tears. – I’m sorry I can’t say what you want to hear.

Eddie didn’t realize he was holding back a sob; Sonia sobbing right after him. They looked at each other, none knowing what to say; Andrea’s words were in the back of his brain, a looping of _“sometimes, we need to do it to give our pain a reason; maybe because answers are worth it. Or just to put an end to something.”_ and Eddie, with realization breaking through him, cried. It was loud, it was painful, it was needed. His mother was crying as well, much more composed, but he could see was bottom lip was trembling and she had spilled some green tea on her dress. _We can’t never get what we want from each other_ , Eddie thought.

Eventually, Eddie stopped crying and, after a while, Sonia stopped too. The only sound was coming from the TV, background voices laughing and screaming. Eddie felt panic rising in his chest and said what was inevitable.

\- I’m thinking it’s time for me to go home, mother. – His voice sounded rushed, his feet burned with the urge to just get up and run. His mother said nothing, looking down; the only indication that she heard what he said was a small nod.

Eddie got up and went slowly to the door, opening hesitantly, like his mother would just yell at him to stop what he was doing and tell him go sit down again. He turned to look at his mother and she was already looking at him, sitting by herself in the two-seat sofa. Eddie had never seen her look so small.

\- Mother loves you, Eddie. – She said and even thought there wasn’t any in her words, her eyes are full of sorrow. Once again at the doorsteps, Eddie felt like puking.

\- I love you, mother. – His words came out of his mouth like a whisper and his heart felt heavy in his chest. – But we’ll never be good to each other.

Eddie worried she didn’t heard him, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to repeat, but then he saw her eyes closing and her lips pressing in a thin line; she breathed and slowly turned herself to face the TV. It took almost a whole minute, Eddie counted, but she spoke again.

\- Do mother a favor, Eddie– Her worlds came out trembling, like she could barely say them. -  and close the door when you leave. 

Eddie did what he was told.

He felt weak on his knees, as he slowly closed the door, and was able to walk past his neighbor's house, hearing a cuckoo clock stroking five times, before he was puking green tea on the sidewalk.

**Author's Note:**

> this is My First Fanfic Ever im both scared and excited. hope someone likes it!!! cause i really liked writing it :-)  
> also: english is not my first language so im sorry if theres like weird mistakes (i read over and over like eight times but u never know)  
> ok if theres someone out there pls say what u think, i wanna be better!!  
> thats it thanks


End file.
